


Make Me

by Rhysanoodle



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 08:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18752872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysanoodle/pseuds/Rhysanoodle
Summary: Nessian angst from a prompt request on Tumblr





	Make Me

It wasn’t completely miserable living with Cassian. Though she was remiss to accept the arrangements when the Inner Circle first forced Nesta to leave her shitty apartment in Velaris. It had been the first place which had ever been hers, and this cabin practically oozed with touches of the Night Court’s lead commander.

Days had blurred into weeks, had blurred into months, had blurred into years here though, and they had finally reached a steady standstill. If Nesta kept her drinking and fucking out of the house, Cassian paid her no mind—just another roommate thrown together by fate.

She sometimes felt his eyes on the back of her head though as she read in the shared living space, sometimes noticed the frowns when she arrived in the middle of the night reeking of sex and booze.

But their past was behind them. She had tried to make it work with Cassian back before the war had wrecked her beyond repair. But that day on that damned hill still haunted her to the core, and he deserved better than her. Broken and miserable with no hope that she would ever recover.

And if she ever allowed herself to love him, he would be taken from her. Of that, Nesta was absolutely certain. His love for her had caused him to attempt to sacrifice himself to buy her a shot at killing the king, and it wasn’t worth it.

She ignored the tugging at her gut, the shadows which whispered to words such and _bond_ and mate. They could never be irrevocably tied to each other in that way. It would only spell disaster.

So Nesta kept up appearances, sleeping with random Illyrian males and passerbys long past the point when she needed it to drown away her feelings—or the empty hole forged by lack thereof.

It had been at least a decade since the wound was that gapingly vacuous. Now it was merely a throbbing lesion which hadn’t healed further in Nesta couldn’t remember how long. This was her life now.

The alcohol helped her forget those encounters, helped her pretend that she wasn’t manufacturing this illusion of apathetic distance between herself and the warrior she wasn’t allowed to love.

Tonight was one of the rare nights where she stumbled home and found the house still vacant.

Cassian tended to turn in much before Nesta, as he woke at the crack of dawn to train.

Nesta bathed to wash the stink of the cheap inn, the random male, and a bit of the stench of wine off herself, knowing even as she also brushed her teeth that the stale taste would haunt her mouth until the next morning.

As she was finishing up a mug of chamomile tea to unwind with before turned in for the night, she heard a jiggling of keys in the lock, and the sound of cursing as the door remained latched shut.

She didn’t need the tug in her gut to announce to her that it was Cassian and not some random cat burglar, so Nesta decided to put the bastard out of his misery, turning the lock herself and admitting him through the now-opened door.

She was met with red-rimmed eyes which looked like they had endured more than simply a shitty night of drinking whiskey with his brothers—if the scent rolling off him in droves was any indication.

“What’s wrong?” Nesta inwardly cursed herself for letting that question slip through the walls she had so carefully constructed between the two of them. They existed for a very important reason.

“It’s nothing,” Cassian mumbled.

“Clearly not,” Nesta snapped. “I haven’t seen you this worked up since …” Since that day all those years ago. Shit. Nesta had lost track of the date, but it was late summer. A gut-wrenching thought hit her. “Cauldron, Cassian. It’s been over a decade. You’re not still …”

But a glance in his amber eyes, practically fractured with emotion, let Nesta know that he was indeed remembering those he lost that day, reliving the guilt of having survived—thanks to Nesta—the blast which had wiped out an entire fleet.

The next thing she knew, Cassian was moving toward her, quickly closing the distance until he was towering over Nesta, one hand pressed against the wall above her.

“Why are we still doing this?”

“Wh-What?” Nesta stammered, her heart thundering out of her chest. With him in such close proximity to her, her resolve was slipping. Years of suppressed feelings bubbling to the surface.

“Pretending that this thing isn’t between us. I know you feel it too.”

“You’re drunk, Cassian. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Lies. Perhaps the ugliest lies Nesta had ever let slip past her lips.

“You’re my mate, and there’s some part of you that’s still in love with me. Tell me that I’m not imagining those nights in the House of Wind, at Tarquin’s, in my tent. Please.”

The plea almost broke her. Almost, but not quite.

“Go to bed,” she whispered. “You’re mistaken.”

“Make me, sweetheart.” There it was. That Cauldron-damned nickname she hadn’t heard in too long, which he had refrained from using once it became clear that Nesta was a ghost who no longer responded to his taunting.

“What?”

“Make. Me.” Cassian bent over, pressing his lips firmly to Nesta’s own. Every eddying thought fled from her head as her body kissed him back, those walls she’d constructed crumbling to ruins as she reveled in the sensation.

She could feel her soul practically purring from his proximity, from being finally allowed to give into its instincts—to love her mate.

The next thing she knew, she was in Cassian’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, having been lifted off the ground. She quickly came up for air only long enough to incline her head in the direction of his bedroom, waiting only long enough for his eyes to light up from the command.

The journey ended sooner than Nesta would’ve liked, relishing being cradled by this male she had spent so long spurning. And for what?

Breaking the kiss to settle her on the mattress and crawl on after her, Cassian laughed, the first she’d heard in ages. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said to make me go to bed, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Somehow, after this crazy evening, the two of them were finally in agreement about one thing.


End file.
